Oh, This Twisted Path we Take
by Shadow36
Summary: Darkness. Yes, it is dark. Obviously… but what we seem to forget as we go from child to adult is that things hide in the dark. Bad things. Evil things. Dark things. Monsters. I had forgotten this. It's about time I remembered. - OC Diary Entries Up
1. 00: Darkness

~~  
Darkness. Yes, it is dark. Obviously… but what we seem to forget as we go from child to adult is that things hide in the dark. Bad things. Evil things. Dark things. Monsters. I had forgotten this. I knew of what was there, lurking in the shadows when I was younger… but as I grew older things seemed to become lighter. There were no longer shadows, only bright lights and happiness. Middle school, high school, and finally college. It was a dream life. Everything was going as planned until half-way through my sophomore year of college at Middle Tennessee State University (MTSU). I was working on my business major, sitting in economics class when James, the kid who sits next to me, stumbled in late. Mr. Heidi walked over to him and told him to leave class, that coming in drunk was inappropriate. James ate his face.

Chaos ensued, you know, the usual when bad shit happens. Students piled and tried to get out of the room, some stepping and crushing others. Everyone trying to get out of the room at the same time ended up trapping them inside the room. I went out the door that led to the other class room. I'm not sure what happened to everyone in that room. Probably nothing good. I think James is still walking around somewhere.

So, going back to darkness and that bumping in the night… well… I'm not talking about that stupid vampire stuff. Really, now. Vampires? Pah. Neither am I talking about walking dead people. This is no rising of the dead. Just of a bunch of "infected individuals" according to the warning sheets posted everywhere. There are so many warnings about the… virus or whatever it is but a few things remain true: if you get bit, you get infected. Unless… you're somehow immune. Apparently it travels through the father's genes. I know my dad's holed up in a pagan sanctuary somewhere. I'm not sure how they ward off the infected… but whatever they do seems to work.

Well, I dunno really. But he's safe, as far as I'm aware. He sent me a letter through a pigeon awhile ago. I have no idea how it got to me, but it did. Which is freakin' cool.

I bet you're wondering where I'm going with this. This odd rambling of nothing at all and yet everything to me. Well, let me-

"Anita! What in the world are you doing! Why are you writing at a time like this!" The death glared I received from my friend, Winter, was enough to chill the bones of a fire lord. She grasped my wrist and yanked me from the place I had seated myself upon the ground... and what a terrible and hard ground it was, let me tell y—"Get yourself out of that head of yours and stay in the now! We're under attack!"

Turning, I gasp in sheer horror at the scene that was enfolding across my eyes. I tend to block things out while a write… or sleep… or listen to music. Well, I block things out when I do anything at all. See, we were traveling in a small group of three people. Not the standard four, I know but—"ANITA!" Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. As we were running away to get our weapons ready, Winter tripped, sending us sprawled out on the ground. I coughed and looked up to find the other member of our team. The guy who had given us drinks from his water canteen was being dragged away, slowly (he was the third member of our team). A grotesque tongue wrapped around his neck, choking the life from him as other… "infected individuals" clawed and beat at him. We locked eyes. I saw the acceptance. I saw the knowledge of his certain death mirrored in my eyes. I also saw him reach for his fanny pack. Many made fun of him because of it… but he never let it bother him. Why? He said that the level of the man was not in how many muscles he had, or how good looking he was, or even how many women he had, well… you know. He said that the true measure of a man was how well equipped he was to protect those whom he cared about around him.

I saw him mouth the words "Run" before I shut my eyes and covered Winter's face. I shut off everything. The world around us, the sounds, the smells… but there was no way for me to block it out. The explosion. The sound of the wet flesh slapping against the hard pavement. The hard, uncomfortable pavement that was digging into my back.

"Wha?" I turned at the raspy sound that came from everywhere, and yet no where at all. I heard it again, that whisper. "_Run_."

So, we ran.

~~  
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Yes, short. But I wanted to try and get a feel for this fic, to make sure everything would work out as planned, and to make sure I didn't get evil hates on writing a L4D fic without any 4 from the first or second game. All the characters are OC and is based on an insanely detailed dream I had.

RnR please, and critiques are very much appreciated while flames are very much not. I will send my hordes of sexy blood stained hunters after you for unwarranted flames. :3


	2. 01: Choices

Choices. To make one, to not make one. To do either is, in effect, making a choice whether you like to believe it or not. Choices were simple once. What to wear in the morning, whether or not to put on makeup, which shoes to wear for that day… if you were going to eat breakfast or not. Choices that helped make your life: choices that probably wouldn't break it if you didn't make the correct decision. Now?

Just one choice can end you or others around you.

.~~.

I made a bad decision earlier today… and someone is dead because of it. I thought the area was safe. It didn't occur to me to check behind locked doors because zombies aren't smart enough to lock doors, right? Wrong apparently. Special infected are very intelligent… and they're growing more so every day.

"You really need to stop beating yourself up over this." Winter sits down next to me, propping her back up against the cold, damp wall. Laying one arm on her knee she looks out the window in the apartment complex we had holed ourselves up in. We knew it wasn't safe to be near an open window, especially with smokers lurking around… but we couldn't deny ourselves the sight of the sun slowly coming up on the horizon. In a world as ugly as now, the smallest things make all the difference.

"You forget that none of us thought to check in the locked room. And how could we have? The door was locked." Winter lays her hand on my shoulder and waits for me to turn to her. I watch the light creep from the sill of the window until it reaches us: the warmth permeating my very soul. Yes… sometimes the smallest things make all the difference.

Winter smiles at me, a warm smile that is the exact opposite of her name. In fact, just who she is is the exact opposite of her name. Well, except the fact that she is as pale as newly fallen snow that is. She could blind the best in sunlight, and we have used it to our advantage before. Just one arm flash sent a witch careening away. Oh, that day.

Her blue eyes look at me quizzically as she pushes a strand of her dark hair out of her face. I had cut my hair after the infection. It seemed pointless to me to have long hair, it would only get in the way. Winter, on the other hand, kept hers. It was falling out of a ponytail as—

"A. Ni. Ta." Quizzically eyes earlier, her blue eyes are now a darker shade. A darker shade of annoyance. "You've been staring at me with blank eyes for ten minutes. Are you going to snap into this world any time soon?"

"Psh… naw," I retort. Ten minutes? Ha! I think not. "Hey, I'm hungry. We got any food?"

Winter chews her bottom lip in thought, "Well, we do have a granola bar left. I've been saving it because it was the last thing I bought with my coupins before the infection hit."

"Coupons, Winter. Cou_pons_."

"Don't lecture me," she says, "I know how to speak."

"Well," I pause, looking out the window at the sun. Not directly into the sun, but close. I'd rather not go blind you know. I watched a bird fly across the sky, turning to the side to pass around a building. Freedom. America used to be the land of the free but that all went to shit once the infection hit. It was only our fault, of course, because we didn't pay attention to the truth. We blinded ourselves to it, only paying attention to what the media was saying and not actually listening what was really happening. America had come into believing that if you just ignored it the bad things would go away. I guess that's how the infection spread so quickly. People just didn't listen…

"Hey. Anita. Damnit girl, am I going to have carry around a fog horn every time I try to speak to you?" Winter looks at me, annoyed again. "Twenty minutes this time. _Twenty_." She stands up quickly, stretching as she rises. "You know, if I left everything up to you, we'dve starved by now."

Ain't that the truth, then. I can't help but laugh. She's completely right. "Should we do something?"

Winter looks down at me and raises and eyebrow, "Do something? About food? Hell yeah we should. I don't wanna starve because you can't scavenge for shit."

"No," I look out the window again. The bird was just a black dot on the horizon. "About Terrance."

Winter sighs and scoots down next to me. "Oh, about Terrance…" The room becomes silent again as we both lose ourselves in thought. You see, Terrance wasn't just the guy who had given up his life for us. He was the guy who had saved our asses plenty of times before. Who had made sure we remember to eat and kept us warm at night. He was the reason we made it so far. Where did we meet Terrance? In a safe house, of course. Winter and I had made our way down from Murfreesboro to our hometown to check on the status of our families when—

"Anita?" I glance over at my companion, "Do you remember when we first met Terrence?" I can't help but smile and nod. Slowly I look down at the puddle on the floor, watching the reflection of the sky on the surface—wait… a puddle? Why is there a puddle in the middle of the—

"MOVE!" Winter shoves both of us out the door as the ceiling in the previous room collapses. "We've got to get out of here. This complex is already filled with mold and fire damage. It won't hold out much longer if this rain keeps up."

I nod at her and we make our way down the steps, slowly but surely. This apartment complex used to be a safe zone before the fire. A family had barricaded the top five floors from the bottom ones and made it a haven for those who needed a place to stay for a few nights or longer. What they didn't realize is that there is a difference between carriers and immunes. They found out the hard way. The original family could not escape so they set their room on fire, to take out as many infected as they could. Someone put out the fire afterword and kept the barricade up so it could be used as a safe spot once again… but it made others weary about being in a group larger than four, with good reason. As we exited the building the top floors began to collapse. We watched in sadness as the building, with so much history behind us, fell apart in front of our eyes.

"Great," says Winter, "Now we're hungry, wet, and homeless."

"Meow," I say as I drag her off towards a makeshift map.

"Great, so you're a homeless kitty. Just don't scratch my face off when we sleep." She says, sarcastic as hell. Yes, hell is very sarcastic, thank you very much.

The map is hard to read in the pouring rain. What's especially frustrating is that the safe houses are marked on the city map in sharpie and, against popular belief, sharpie can be worn off. Across the top of the map read it **Music City** in big, bold letters. Thought the only music being heard in this city now was the cacophony of hunter screams and random moans and yells from the common infected.

Winter shivers next to me as echoes of the hunter screams reach us. I lay my hand on her shoulder, "It's far away."

"Yeah, but this sounds like a pack to me." She looks at me in fear and we both turn to the map to spot the closest safe zone to our current position. "There's one in Union station, in the lobby."

I look across the street in concern. Normally the infected are not bothered by the rain. The only thing is really does good for us is that they're harder of hearing… but we can't see as well and they'll definitely here us if we use an umbrella.

"_Ruuuun…_" My eyes widen slightly and I glance towards my friend. "Did you hear that?" I ask, paranoid.

Winter gives me that look, "The only thing I heard was you being retarded." Lightening flashed across the sky and lit up the area around us for a split second. I freeze in fear.

"_Ruuuuuuuuun._"

"Winter, I think we should run." She turns to me, pale, and nods quickly. We grow still as thunder booms, deafening against the pounding of the rain. Then we hear it. The maniacal sounds of some crazed old man. I fumble against the hilt of my sword, the rain making the handle slick. I hear Winter unlock the safety of her handgun next to me. "How many shots do you have left?"

She looks down and then glances from left to right, trying to see anything in the downpour, "I don't know… six, maybe seven?"

I had run out of ammo some time ago. Winter's better at conserving ammo than I am, but it had been awhile since we had been to a stocked safety room. "Do you think you can make it?"

She sighs audibly next to me, "I'm not sure."

"Well," I smile, turning my voice into the most thickenist southern accent I could acquire, "Don shoot til you can see the white of ther eyes."

"You're an idiot."

"I love you too."

The sounds of the jockey get closer as we banter. We begin to get uneasy. "There's no way to tell which was he's coming from." I gulp and agree in silence.

"_Ruuuuun… you fools._"

And so, we run.

.~~.

Choices. Everyone makes them. Maybe not always the right decision, but what matters is that you made one, right? Right? I begin to question that logic as I fall. When certain critical events happen, it goes in slow motion. Maybe the moment when you realize that you forgot to wear pants as you open the door to pay the girl scouts, or the moment where you realize that you acted like a total girl to your group of guy friends, or the moment where you decide to run and then trip over a coke-a-cola can. Really? A can? Normally I look where I'm going. But a can trips me up?

Shit.

A moment in slow motion, where time seems to stop. Each rain drop freezes, trapped in time: Winter's look of shock as I fall… and a figure, stilled in movement. A hooded figure.

Choice: my decision to listen to a disembodied voice. Smaaaaart, huh.

* * *

Hi! ^^ What do you think? I'd like to know if I'm doing things right or if I'm doing wrong… am I going in the right direction?

I think it's flowing the way I want it to… I guess we'll see in a few chapters. :heart:


	3. 02: Lost

Previously on _Oh, This Twisted Path we Take_:

The sounds of the jockey get closer as we banter. We begin to get uneasy. "There's no way to tell which way he's coming from." I gulp and agree in silence.

"_Ruuuuun… you fools._"

And so, we run. And I, of course, trip on a can. A can of all things. Are you serious man? Really? Really!

I could see the look of shock on Winter's face as I fell. I also saw the underlying, "OMG are you retarded!" look as well. I watch the can slide out of sight from us. The only sound audible is the sound of the can, slowly running away from the scene. Murderer! I want to scream. How could you!

But then again… the can wouldn't care. It was just a flippin' can.

"Anita!" I glance up at Winter as she runs over to me, "Did you see that?" At my look of confusion she explains, "Some hooded man just took out that jokey. I'm not sure where they went…" We still like prey when a cacophony of Hunter screams sound. Winter looks at me and I look back at her and we pale. Far by me to know she could grow any paler, but she did, with a tinge of grey. "Pack…" she whispers to me, barely moving her lips.

When things like this happen, you're kinda screwed. No matter which avenue you choose, there are always consequences. To split up? No, impossible. We have to stay together. But what could we possibly do? The safe house is too far. The only thing we can do is…

"RUN!" I take Winter's hand and we take off, this time dodging the evil can rolling its sinister way across the pavement. Again, time slows. I can hear my heart beat against my chest, trying to explode its way out and hers beating at my hand, uselessly trying to free itself. The pounding of the rain around us dulls the sound of our harsh breathing, dulls the sounds of the pack until we're in a land of water and pavement. Where were they coming from? Where can we go?

Winter grabs my shoulder and points to a building. The door locked and infected roaming around inside but underneath, a car garage with no obvious signs of movement. I nod to her. The lights and power seem to be working in the building. I glace over at Winter and see her mouth the words "elevator". Hope seems to blossom in my chest. A possibility of survivors?

The sound of the Hunters dims as we lightly pad our way into the garage. We keep our breathing as light as possible, even though our hearts about to explode. I sign to Winter to keep to the edge of the garage then make our way to the elevator along the walls. There's no sign of anything moving and I can't help but sigh in relief as we arrive in front of the thick doors of the elevator. Winter pushes the call button and I turn to her and smile. I can hear the doors of the elevator open behind me but the look on Winter's face was not one I expected. She looked shocked and horrified. I feel a thick tongue wrap around my throat and I try to scream. Not the best thought in the world now that I look on it. Probably would've called all of the infected in the area. Lucky I couldn't breathe. Or not so lucky. Huh. Well, poo.

I paw at the tongue constricting me as the lights around me begin to dim. I watch futilely as Winter reaches behind her to pull out her knife to slice at the Smoker's tongue. With a sickening sound she slices and the Smoker stumbles backward. "Bich!" he says as he leaps into the elevator shaft and disappears.

"Well, poo." Winter exhales as rocks slightly onto her heel.

"No time!" I pull Winter into the elevator and push the button to close the door. My heart stops as a hooded figure enters the garage. It smiles and begins to walk forward as the doors shut in front of us. Holy hell. Wait… "Why was he walking?"

Hunters don't walk. They crawl or hunch. Just what was that thing!

Winter looks at me and raises an eyebrow, "Uh, maybe his back hurt from hunching it all the time? Maybe he was tired of fitting in? Naaaw, maybe he's the lone hunter of the pack and wants to steal you away and make cute hunter babies with you?"

I roll my eyes at Winter's remark, "Why you—" We both cry out as the elevator shakes and Hunter shrieks sound beneath us.

"I WAS WRONG! I WAS WRONG! OH SWEET JESUS!" The hunter's screams became louder. I guess at the sound of their prey crying out in fear. Excited little bastards, aren't they? "Oh great holy baby Jesus of coupins…'

With a look Winter gives me a smirk. We both pale as the elevator stops at 15. "Hey, you didn't hit a number did you?" I shake my head. We flinch as the door opens to a group of armed men. They drag us inside the room.

One of them turns to a man with a football helmet on, "Get them to safety. Earl, get that there pipe bomb and throw it down thuh shaft. One of them there's bound to be a retard." We didn't get to see or hear much else before we were shuffled into a room and told to stay put. Possibly by Earl. What a name, Earl. Did people really have that name anym—

"Hey. Anita."

"Yeah?"

"Did that Smoker call me a bitch?"

"Ah."

* * *

Sorry, it's been awhile since I updated. ^^; School kicked me upside the head but now that it's summer I'll finally be able to have some time set aside for writing. It's a little short because I'm not quite back in the groove but the chapters with lengthen. :D


	4. Diary Entries: June-July

June 1st,

It's been awhile. Haven't recorded much. Kailei tells me that it's good to write things down, but... I dunno... I'll give it a try. It's been... four days since the infection hit? I'm not sure to be honest. I'm just guessing on the date. I don't even know what day of the week it is. Will it even matter in a couple weeks? A couple months? Can we rebuild and survive from this?

* * *

/ /

June 4th,

I've begun to tally the days that go by in-between entries. Maybe I can keep track of them that way. We're starting to move for home to check in on our parents. To see if they're okay. I hope they are.

* * *

\

June 6th,

Kailei and I separated outside of Nashville. She joined up with her brother and they left. So... here I am... alone... just me...

* * *

\ \

June 9th, (I think)

Tree's are safe. Very high. Very nice. Except for the things with the tongues. They cough. A horrible, wretched cough. They sound like my aunt who smoked three packs a day. What are these things? First zombies... now... super zombies? Fuck. It's like normal zombies aren't enough. Infected individuals my ass. I saw that thing grab a man from twenty feet away and haul him to his death. His buddies didn't even see it coming...

… I see a lot from the trees...

* * *

\ \ \

June 13th,

So... turns aren't trees aren't as safe as I originally thought. Found another kind of... super special ultra zombie? It bloody growls. Like a dog. Got right up in my face and pounced me. It... it didn't have any eyes. Luckily I was saved by a group that was heading towards White House. Other college kids, like me. From MTSU. Freddie is an... _was_ an economics major. His twin brother Quinton is a physics major. They were so completely different and yet... totally the same. Sometimes Quinton just stares off into space... probably thinking about Freddie.

… I hope my family is okay.

* * *

\ \

June 16th,

I have something happy to write... as happy as I can get for this time... during this...

Anyways... Quinton is... nice. Really nice. More than nice, really...

* * *

June 17th,

Made it to Rivergate... or what's left of it. There are still chunks of civilization. It gives me hope. We met up with a family who let us in. Gloria is the wife's name. Frank is the father. They have a little girl. She's sick though... probably has the flu. They're letting us stay in the guest bedroom. It's a nice little community here, actually. Gated. Safe. Not a lot of trees, which is good.

… damn hunters.

* * *

June 18th,

God... just... GOD. I can't... she... FUCK.

* * *

June 19th,

We buried them. John got bit. That little girl...

… shit.

* * *

June 20th,

Last night til we move. Quinton, Jeremy, Tod, Gary, and Shira took John outside for a last smoke. When they come back I know he won't be with them. However this virus works... it works quickly. And subtle. It seems to mimic a very bad flu, but eventually the person falls into a coma. Or... that's what I've been told. I only saw one case... and she wasn't in a coma for very long.

… damnit...

* * *

\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \

June 30th,

Something's been... watching me... or maybe I'm just being paranoid. I've felt it for awhile... an itching between my shoulder blades.

Watching... waiting...

…. we don't have much longer...

* * *

\ \ \ \

July 5th,

Something amazing happened. I ran into Winter. She's on her way back home as well. She was with this guy named Terrance. No time to write. Just happy!

* * *

\ \

July 9th,

Quinton is dead.


End file.
